2016-02-06 Screw the DJD
From Transformers: Lost and Found
|2016-02-06 Screw the DJD|
|Location||Habsuites - Blast Off and Whirl|
|Participants||Blast Off, Whirl|
|Summary||Whirl and Blast Off have some quiet time after their encounter with the DJD. As you can see by the date, this should've been posted a long time ago but I forgot.|
It's been a day. No, week. No year. LIFETIME. Or so it seems as Blast Off returns from speaking to his fellow Combaticon, Swindle. Still clutching the bottle he took from Swindle's room, he enters his own habsuite. He's worried about Swindle and what might happen to him once he admits his involvement with the BBC. Especially if he's foolish enough to actually go to Ultra Magnus like he said he would. SIIIGH. But anyway.
Then there's Whirl. Primus, so much about Whirl. Exasperating, wonderful, horrible, brave, chivalrous, infuriating Whirl. Whirl who was tortured in front of him by the DJD until he was knocked unconscious. Whirl of extremely bad taste- especially in body art. Whirl his boyfriend- and Autobot. And Whirl who apparently nearly beat up Swindle in a fit of rage- rage Blast Off suspects he may understand. The shuttleformer unlocks the door and pushes his way in, immediately looking to see if Whirl's already there.
Normally Whirl would be spending his free time getting into trouble in Swerve's or.. anywhere really (he's really good at getting into trouble) but ever since his run-in with the DJD, he's been spending a lot more time in his room. Doing what? Who even knows but when Blast Off walks in he'll find Whirl sprawled out on the shuttleformer's berth in recharge. He stirs not too long after Blast Off's arrival, optic flickering a few times before settling into a steady glow. "Hey, shuttlemuffin."
Blast Off stops when he spots Whirl- in his berth, no less, which gains the rotary one of those /looks/ he was just perfecting on Swindle. But it passes and he continues inside, more important things on his mind for now. Including Whirl's more reclusive behavior. HE's the introvert, not Whirl. Placing his wine down, he turns to look at the cyclops, wincing just a tiny bit at the pet name. He is still not sure if he loves that or hates it- possibly both at the same time. "Hi..." His voice falters as he continues trying in vain to think of a pet name for Whirl. Seems only fair, right? But not today apparently. He takes a step forward, trying to access the other mech's condition. "...How are you?"
Whirl scoots over on the berth a little bit and pats the empty space with a claw, encouraging Blast Off to come sit with him. "I don't know," he says in a way that suggests he actually does but doesn't want to say so. "Okay, I guess." He shrugs and adjusts himself on the berth, rolling onto his side and propping his head up with a claw. "Better now that you're here. How are you doing?"
Blast Off strides over to the berth, violet optics roving over the other's frame for a moment (PURELY TO CHECK FOR DAMAGE OKAY (...ok maybe or maybe not PURELY for that)). His head tilts a bit to the side and he allows himself a soft sigh. "Just okay? If I were you, after all that happened I'd be a little less than... okay." He then sits down next to his boyfriend, hands folding in his lap. "As for me, well, I've been... better."
The Combaticon glances away, back to the wine bottle, wondering how to begin, then back to Whirl. One hand twitches, then stills. Then finally lifts up in a very deliberate way to the other's arm where it hovers there, almost touching but not quite. Then with a final measured, thoughtful motion, he places his hand on Whirl's arm. This /comforting/ stuff still isn't exactly second nature. But he cares, and he's not as afraid to show it to Whirl as he would be with anyone else.
"After all what happened? Ohh, you mean the whole thing with the DJD?" As if there was ANYTHING ELSE Blast Off could possibly be referring to. "What kind of ex-Wrecker do you take me for? Those guys were nothin'. FUCK those guys! I wasn't afraid of them before and I'm not afraid of them now!" It sounds like he's trying to convince himself just as much as he's trying to convince Blast Off. "It's fine. I'm fine. Really."
Blast Off's gentle arm touch is returned with the wrapping of an arm around his waist, Whirl soon pulling himself closer and dropping his head into his lap. "You're looking a lot better since I saw you in the medbay." He reaches up a claw to poke at Blast Off's face. "So have you..uh.. talked to Swindle since we came back?"
Blast Off is going to get to practice THE LOOK a lot today, it seems. He certainly gives Whirl that look now as the mech claims the DJD was no big deal. "WHIRL. Yes, you are an ex-Wrecker, one hell of an ex-Wrecker too~..." His optics dim then brighten again, "But that was the *DJD*. They are what Decepticon nightmares are made of. They-" He's interrupted by that arm snaking around his waist and suddenly there's a whole head in his lap. Looking down at that single yellow optic, Blast Off draws a would-be breath... then relaxes, bringing his hands down to cup Whirl's not-face, one hand under where his jaw would be, one hand cradling the top of his head. He remains there like that a moment, lifting his hand to briefly pinch the antenna on the side of Whirl's head, then goes back to cradling- and leans in as he retorts, "Why YES, Whirl... I DID in fact talk to Swindle. JUST BEFORE I CAME HERE." He says that in a sort of sing-songy *imagine that, ha ha* tone that might imply trouble up ahead. MAYBE.
Whirl seems to relish in the touches, optic dimming and weight shifting to bring himself even closer to Blast Off. In about five seconds he's going to be draping himself all over his lap, blissful and content. Or at least he would if it weren't for what Blast Off says. Well, no, it's not even what he says, it's the way he says it. Uh oh. "Oh yeah? How'd that go?" he asks, trying to play it cool.
Blast Off seems to pick up on that pleasure, and the thumb on the hand that is cradling the top of Whirl's head begins stroking it gently on a slow repeat. "Well, let's see." That odd tone in his voice remains as he cants his head to the side and appears to look thoughtful. "We talked about Combaticon things, you know the usual mayhem and glory, how those who oppose us shall fall at our feet in sorrowed and penitent agony." His head tilts the other way. "And how we need to have a plan the next time the DJD show their ugly faces, for most assuredly they WILL."
He leaves it at that, using the other hand to sweep his pointer finger under Whirl's "jaw" and start rubbing it up and down. Then, after a pause, he adds just one thing. "OH! Oh yes. One other thing. He also mentioned that YOU came by to see him." His expression remains almost sickeningly sweet.
"Mmm.." It's a peaceful noise that Whirl makes after everything Blast Off says. Is he even listening? It's hard to tell for sure but it seems like he's far more interested in all the physical attention he's currently getting. He tilts his head upwards to give Blast Off more room to move his fingers and he lets out a quiet sigh. "Oh, did he? Did he happen to mention what a fuckin' asshole he was being?" Oh, okay, so he WAS listening after all.
Blast Off encourages all this, too, his own optics dimming just a bit as his fingers continue their skillful administrations, gliding along metal surfaces and pausing only to dig into seams.. He cants his head yet again, finishing with another antenna pinch as he leans in. "Actually, no." His expression remains bright and cheerful. (For him at least.) "He was telling me what an asshole /you/ had been."
The antennae pinch causes Whirl to squirm a bit but he catches himself before it gets too embarrassing. "OH PFFFFFT! That's such bullshit, I wasn't being an asshole! I was being a perfectly normal person who was pissed off at him for perfectly legitimate feelings! He almost got us all killed, for god's sake! He almost got YOU killed!" His arm tightens around Blast Off's waist. "....Did he go into detail?"
Whirl's first clue that something changed will be that the bright and cheerful (for him at least) expression fades into the more familiar nonplussed look he's been practicing all day today. The second will be that the Combaticon's soft and gentle grip suddenly digs into his helmet tightly- not enough to hurt, but enough to turn his not-face to Blast Off's for an extra-thorough glaring. "Perfectly normal person who was trying to STAB my teammate with his claws! Whirl, you CAN'T DO THAT. You..." His rightous indignation is interrupted a little with what are some very valid points. "Well... yes, that's true, but still.."
Mmm, this is nice. Whirl could lay here in Blast Off's lap for the rest of his life, just enjoying those magnficent fingers stroking at his helm... until Blast Off straight up grabs him and forces him to meet that glare. "I didn't actually stab him though! Give me a break, it was just a little scratch! I give you scratches like that all the time, it's not a big deal!" He tries to wiggle his head out of Blast Off's grasp. "He deserved it anyway for being a dick!"
Blast Off lets Whirl wiggle away but the glare continues. "Well HE didn't seem to think so, and he's a *Combaticon*!!" A thought occurs to him and he is forced to break that sentence with a caveat, "Ok, ok, he's *Swindle*... but still, he's a /Combaticon/! We're hardly petro-pansies!" The shuttleformer tries to grab Whirl's claw to shake it just a little. "THIS is not something you can go around just sticking into my teammates whenever you get angry! THESE HURT, and well yes, *I* get clawed at all the time..." That makes him stop and ponder the wisdom of that particular choice of words, but no matter, it's been said now, "And alright *I* don't mind but that doesn't mean he doesn't!" His optics flash. "I am TRYING to get you accepted by my teammates, but if you are off trying to KILL them it's not going to happen!"
Whirl's last sentence causes Blast Off's armor plates to bristle and he works at controlling his temper. "Look, I know you're upset, I don't blame you, but I also KNOW you... and when you get angry you get *violent*. I can imagine you didn't just /scratch/ at him. I saw the marks, they didn't look like scratches." Then he takes in a big inhalation of air, bringing his hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose. "Why don't you tell me what happened? I know HIS side of the story. What's yours?"
Whirl stares at his claw as it's jiggled around. "I wasn't trying to kill him, okay!? I was just trying to scare him! Letting him know that I could kill him if I wanted to! It's really not as big a deal as you're making it! The DJD would've done a lot more than that to ALL of us because of him!"
When Blast Off asks for his side of the story, Whirl vents a long, dramatic sigh and sits up. "Ugh, okay, so, I was on the observation deck when I saw Swindle, and I went over to talk to him, you know? Ask him about what the hell happened to get him on the list and he immediately starts going off on me! For absolutely no reason! He attacked me and I had no choice but to defend myself!"
It makes perfect sense!
Blast Off 's face could just about freeze in that long-suffering, nonplussed, THE LOOK look it's been in since it's been in it for so long today. "/He/ attacked /you/. First." Long pause. "/Swindle/ attacked you. FIRST." Staaaare. "THEN you tried to scare him just to show you could. ...Ok then. MmmHmmm." Yeah, uh huh.
As Whirl sits up, Blast Off watches him for a time before the Combaticon suddenly lunges at Whirl, grabbing either arm in his arms and shaking him once. "WHIRL." He tightens his grip on the other mech and draws in close. "FRAG IT ALL." Another intake of air and then.... his head unexpectedly drops down to nestle in Whirl's chest. "Whirl, Primus... you *don't* make things easy sometimes." Another intake of air and he looks up, trying to bring those claws closer to his face, which suddenly expresses the pain of concern. "I think you lied to me." About several things perhaps but... "How are you? /REALLY/?"
Whirl makes a surprised noise when he's grabbed and shaken. "H-hey!" He stiffens when Blast Off draws in close, expecting a lecture or at the very least a round of angry huffing but it doesn't happen. Instead Blast Off nuzzles into his chest and he's left feeling extremely guilty. A drawn out sigh and Whirl meets Blast Off's gaze. "Okay.. okay, you're right! I lied! I was pissed off at Swindle and I tracked him down and gave him shit, alright!? I choked him until he told me about the BBC, and then I tried to stab him when he started talking shit! Blaming me for the war, blaming me for what the DJD did to you.. I lost my cool."
Blast Off gazes up at the taller mech, violet optics taking this all in. At first there's a *siiigh* of annoyance as Whirl admits to stabbing Swindle, complete with a "You can't go around *stabbing* my teammates, Whirl! Primus, you just ca-" This all stops by the time Whirl finishes, the Combaticon's optics flickering in surprise. "He said /what/??!!" Now he pushes away, hands still clutching the other mech's arms, arms straight, and studies the lone and what many would say is the expressionless optic of his boyfriend. But the shuttleformer sees so much in there, so much more than others give Whirl credit for.
And then Blast Off seems to wilt just a little, the righteous, indignant tension leaving his frame, his expression turning to one of sympathy. It is awkward and unfamiliar to that face, but it is there right now. His gaze shifts downward, falling upon the mark, the shredded tatters of what was once a.... quite tasteless, actually, piece of body art of HIM. And for the very first time, Blast Off is sorry he didn't look at it when it was still there. "I... I suppose I can't entirely blame you then." He glances up, a trace of sternness decorating his brow, then fading. "You STILL shouldn't attack Swindle but..." One black hand leaves its place on Whirl's arm and touches where the art used to be- gently. Wistfully. "He was wrong to do that. It is NOT your fault, you know."
Oh, turns out Blast Off is completely and totally understanding of his reasons for trying to brutally stab Swindle. He should've been honest from the very beginning and saved himself some trouble! "I'm sorry." That's not entirely true so he elaborates. "..I mean, I'm not sorry for hurting Swindle, he deserved it. I'm just sorry that he's a Combaticon and it's making it kind of weird and difficult for you." Quietly he adds, "I know it's not my fault but sometimes I convince myself it is. Maybe if I had done something different, it would've made things easier. Made it less... awful."
He glances down at the hand upon his chest, remembering the ridiculous yet awesome body art that used to be there. You know, before the DJD fucked it up during their beating. "Do you want to see it now?"
Blast Off is NOT entirely understanding.... but he is to some degree. He knows- or suspects- that Whirl masks some of his real anguish concerning his unwitting role in starting the war and he knows the rotary must have *hated* hearing Swindle blame him when Blast Off got hurt. He also knows that Whirl got hurt even worse- after all, he shielded the other mech's unconscious and beaten body from the blow of Brainstorm's last hurrah effort to save them all. Those back burns and weltd are only now finally largely repaired.
His hand comes to rest on Whirl's chassis and he continues gazing into that one lone optic. "Whirl." His voice is cultured, quiet, and a mix of chiding dashed with a heavy serving of consoling. "He didn't, but... yes. I'd like you two to get along, not murder each other. If I die, I'll have no one to will my belongings to." OMP did he just make a JOKE?!?
He chuckle-huffs (it seems he DID), then gently shakes his head. "You were given a raw deal from the get-go. And I will NOT stand to listen to someone blame you for this fragging war, /including you/." He gives Whirl his best no-nonsense look and that hand lifts up to tap Whirl on what would have been his chin. "Alright?" Then he freezes. Oh god. Blink. "Uhhh.... I-I thought it was destroyed?"
Was that... a joke? Whirl cocks his head to the side, the best way he can express his disbelief. "Look.. I know he's family and everything and I care about you so.." He vents a sigh. "I'll try to be civil next time I see him, alright?" Provided Swindle wants to get anywhere near him after this.
He makes a huffing noise when Blast Off taps at his 'chin' and affectionately lectures him for being hard on himself. "Alright, alright.." he reluctantly agrees right before leaning in to nuzzle at Blast Off's face. He pulls back and puffs his chest out. "Of course it was destroyed! You really think this is what it looked like in it's prime!?" Whirl hops off the berth and walks over to his desk to retrieve a datapad. He activates it and hands it to Blast Off. The datapad contains several pictures of Whirl's body art taken from his point-of-view in a mirror. He's posing in every one. "I'm going to ask Torque to repaint it. There's nothing you can do to stop me."
Blast Off gives him a patient nod. "That's all I ask. Keep it as civil as possible." Knowing Whirl, that means he'll wait five minutes instead of one before stabbing Swindle again, but ah well- you win some, you lose some. He returns the nuzzle, optics dimming and hand reaching up to pinch gently at one of those pedipalps sticking from Whirl's not-chin. Then watches as Whirl hops over to grab a datapad and hand it to him. There's a brief moment Blast off does /not/ bring the datapad closer. His arm remains stretched out, clutching the pad, almost as if wondering whether he can delay this any longer. Nope, probably not. So he draws it near, and looks down.
And stares. Violet optics go pale and the Combaticon doesn't move for quite some time, other than to flick through the images with the tap of a dark finger. Finally, he speaks.
"Oh my PRIMUS." There's something that almost sounds like a gulp, and is that a weird little bussing of circuitry like Blast Off might faint any moment? Could be. "It's... It's...." Oh god what to say, it's horrible and he can't /beleiev/ Whirl actually got that done and the freakin' *DJD* saw it (he is SO doomed) and ...and...... "It's... uh.... beautiful." At least it's gone forever (//whew//). Then Whirl says *that*. Violet optics snap onto Whirl's yellow one. "/WHAT?!" Then he stops. He's not exactly sure how to take Whirl's last sentence, and the datapad slumps down against a thigh. "You.... I...what? Why do you think I'd try to stop you?" He blinks, suddenly unsure. "And what I want of art like that, featuring me... wouldn't matter?"
"I figured you'd hate it and do everything you could to keep it from ever appearing again," Whirl says. He's right, isn't he? Blast Off's reaction said everything, and he just loved it, and yet.. "It really bothers you, doesn't it? The thought of me getting it redone, it upsets you, yeah?" He shakes his head and shrugs, "Alright. I get it." He slides off the berth and walks over to the window, angling himself in such a way to catch his reflection. After an awkward stretch of silence where all he does is just look at himself, Whirl finally turns around and locks optic(s) with Blast Off. "What if it was more tasteful? Or.. subtle? What if you designed it? Would that be better?"
The rare warmth in Blast Off's expression has been made all the rarer by its disappearance. Instead the shuttleformer just looks a bit confused and a bit apprehensive and very much guarded. His arms fold back together and cross as he regards the other mech. "I... then... if you thought I'd hate it why did you have it made?" His head tilts as he recalls their recent experience planetside. "You were even trying to get my attention ...back there, on the planet, weren't you? Showing off? It looked like you were trying to bring my attention to something.... *that* something.... but then.... why? Was it to upset me?"
Blast Off sighs and glances away, only turning his face back when he can feel Whirl's gaze boring in on him. "I...uh.... I don't know. Alright, maybe I... uh..." How do you say that you really DID kind of hate it, but also think it *was* beautiful in its own way at the exact same time? It doesn't make sense, right, so he's not sure how to put that in words.
Whirl rubs at the emotionless box that used to be his face, venting a long sigh. "It's hard to explain, alright? It's like.. I didn't want to upset you but I wanted to get a little bit of a rise out of you, you know? But that wasn't the ONLY reason!" He gestures to the empty spot on his canopy that once displayed the amazing pin-up. "I was really proud of it! Having a painting of you looking super hot right on my body? It was the best and Torque did such a good job!"
The Combaticon's arms remain crossed, and he looks away again as he listens to this. Under other circumstances, it WOULD have gotten a rise out of him, indeed, but right now he feels a bit deflated. "I see." Black fingers dig a little into his own arm as he mulls things over. "I... I meant what I said. .....Well, mostly." Blast Off finally turns to look at Whirl and that smudge mark on his chest. "It was....beautiful. *Horrible* too but.... yes, it seems Torque did an excellent job. It was...well, no one's ever had art made of /me/ put on themselves before, that's certainly true." He pauses there, optics ridges furrowing briefly, feeling a bit awkward. "I'm not going to dictate anything to you, though. What you choose to do... is up to you."
"That's because you've never been with someone who's crazy about you before," Whirl says, strutting over to the berth Blast Off is sitting on. "Or just plain crazy, but that's still up for debate." He steps in close, violating Blast Off's personal space by wedging himself between his legs. "Look, if you really don't want me parading your likeness around like that, then I won't." He takes the hand Blast Off is picking at himself with and holds it still in his claws. "I guess when it comes down to it, I don't really need a painting when I have the real thing. I can always get something else. How about FUCK THE DJD in fancy letters?"
Blast Off does reply with a soft little chuckling sort of huff at the crazy comment, still looking away. But when Whirl comes and /inserts/ himself right into Blast Off's personal space he's forced to look up at the larger mech, optics suddenly widening and flickering. The picking stops as that claw presses on his hand. He may be feeling guarded, but he doesn't pull away, either. "....No. You got *beaten unconscious* for that body art, I'd say remake it in its full...uh..." Um. "...*Glory* and ADD the *Fuck the DJD* TO IT." He glances to his arm that claw is placed on. "Maybe I should follow suit."
"I got beaten unconscious for a lot of reasons, proudly displaying my love for you was just the best one." Whirl tries to wink but it's physically impossible to do so, so he just stares really hard at Blast Off before leaning in to press his not-face against into the crook of his neck. "You should go see Torque and talk to her about it, I'm sure she can help you come up with something equally as fantastic as mine."
Now Whirl isn't even playing fair. As the rotary leans in, Blast Off is getting distracted from the things he /wants/ to say. Things about those sacrifices, what he went through being held captive, watching Whirl beaten by the DJD for those reasons, dragging the mech and shielding him with his own body, just... a lot of things he's never experienced or done before. But perhaps that's neither here nor there. He uncrosses his arms and looks up at the mech. "Yes, I'm sure I can." He reaches up and puts that behind him for today.